Deb Sarah isn’t either

Morning or night person? Actually, I’m most active in the middle of the night. Here’s a diary of a typical night for me:

10 p.m. sharp: Time to turn off the television and go straight to bed. Am so tired. Ooh, but an “American Idol” rerun is on! I’ll just watch for a minute.

11:00 p.m. I’m so over Clay Aiken. Why did I ever think he could sing? Anyway, off to bed.

11:03 p.m. How can I be expected to sleep when a persistent voice is coming from the kitchen freezer, calling out, “Hellooooo? Anyone awake?”

11:13 p.m. Ah, much quieter now that the pint of Ben & Jerry’s has been permanently silenced.

11:26 p.m. Drifting off… drifting…. Darn, forgot to let the dog out. But if I go downstairs and out into the cold now I’ll be awake forever. And she went out right after dinner. I’m sure she’ll be fine.

1:42 a.m. Oh, God. Pry open one bleary eye to see a kid stumbling toward my bed. I freeze and hold my breath. Hey, it works for possums; sometimes predators leave them alone and move on to the next victim. But this child’s instincts are superior to the average predators’. He crawls in next to me. I’ll carry him back to his bed in just a second.

2:39 a.m. Cannot move left arm! Paralysis? Stroke? No, upper arm is being used as a pillow by one of the kids, and the baby is tucked under my other arm. Have no memory of getting up to retrieve baby from crib. Maybe husband will wake up and carry the kids back to bed. Jab husband in shoulder to increase odds of this happening.

2:44 a.m. Useless, snoring husband has been jabbed all the way to the far side of the bed. I crawl out of bed and trip over dog. Dog is overcome with ecstasy, practically weeping at the thought that it’s time to get up. Wave my arms around while shushing dog. Dog leaps up excitedly: It’s playtime? Oh, life is goooood!

2:46 a.m. Carry children to their own bedrooms. Crack toe on edge of door in darkness. Muffle squeal of agony. Manage to hop painfully across the room while carrying baby. Dog joyfully leaps and bounds alongside me, delighting in fun new hopping game.

2:48 a.m. Back in bed. Rub sore arm and toe. Jab husband again, for good measure.

2:49 a.m. A new child appears at my bedside; he woke up when I brought his brother back into their room.

4:05 a.m. Ouch! Blinding pain! Child has rolled over and socked me in the eye.

4:45 a.m. Husband nudges me awake and whispers, “Honey? Why is there a kid in our bed again? They really need to start to sleeping in their own bed.”

That’s exactly what I was thinking, Kathy. Now, it’s listening for various kids to tiptoe in, then being woken up by the sound of the microwave beeping, then waking back up worrying that they shut the fridge/turned off the lights/locked the door. Then hearing them whisper to one another in the hall (“you wanna play xbox? Or watch Seinfeld?). Later, wake up because of weird buzzing sound; realize some kid left his cell phone on the hardwood floor right above my bedroom and the texts are coming in fast and furious.

It almost makes me miss their cuddly little bodies stealing all the covers when they were little.

My baby has actually slept for a good six hours the last couple of nights before getting up to eat (and then actually eats and goes back to sleep), so he isn’t keeping me up all night, but I do it to myself. Oh, let me read one more book review/LibraryThing thread, let me just check my blog stats, let me try to write one more review. Then suddenly is 11:30 or midnight after I’d complained about being tired at 8 or 9.

Trish – don’t worry, your kids will erase your memory. You’ll never recall actually reading this.
And Jen, I hear you! On the rare nights all three kids are asleep early, I’m on the computer. Of course, my husband just LOVES this 🙂
And many thanks Kristi, Kristina, and Alicia!